


To Thy I Bind My Soul

by Nefaria_Black



Series: To Live in the Shadows [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Death Eaters, Gen, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Prompt Fic, first wizarding war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 02:17:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefaria_Black/pseuds/Nefaria_Black
Summary: Rodolphus joins the ranks of the Dark Lord





	To Thy I Bind My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Challenges and Prompts at the end  
> Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, some gore, directed at adults and children alike, please be aware of your sensibilities and proceed accordingly  
> Leave me your thoughts at the end

**To Thy I Bind My Soul**

 

_Malfoy Manor, September 1969_

He was so very nervous that night. He had spent the day pacing around Castle Lestrange, earning glares from portraits, a scolding from his Mother, and a harsh conversation with his Father.

The elder Lestrange was there too, Rodolphus new. His Father was in the meeting the Dark Lord had summoned, specifically, to welcome the new recruits. He had no idea about what would follow, if there was some sort of ceremony, or ritual. He didn’t know if he feared it or craved it. Perhaps he would be made to showcase his skill, maybe he would have to claim a life tonight, or torture a mind to the verge of sanity. All he knew was that he couldn’t wait any longer.

Bella would be so proud of him. She still had another year to go at Hogwarts but joining the Dark Lord’s ranks was already her goal. Bast would be proud too, of the older brother he always looked up to, and whose he would follow. And Father, he was going to be the proudest, watching a second generation of Lestranges join the fight for a better, purer world.

The door came ajar and he nearly jumped. He managed to stop his body from jerking, but his instincts kicked in and his wand was aimed at the house-elf that had come for him. The wretched creature backed away into the shadows beyond the door immediately. Malfoy elves were thoroughly trained in the art of dodging jinxes and more physical forms of punishment in their first days of service. This one didn’t even dare share the same room as him, merely showing his snout like face again and telling him that the Master will receive him now.

The Master. Not Abraxas Malfoy, no. The Dark Lord himself.

Rodolphus started walking as he made sure his attire was flawless, following the house-elf into another room. A large expanse of marble floors, poorly lit, walls lined by cloaked dark figures bearing silver engraved masks. As statues they stood, the chosen ones, alert, expecting. He and the Dark Lord himself were the only ones with bare faces.

“Come closer,” a soft voice beckoned him, “let me see you.” And he walked, incapable of any resistance, to the man, the wizard, the leader that would command his life from now on. For that was the only way of servitude Lord Voldemort accepts. Lifelong servants to his cause.

He bowed at the feet of the Dark Lord, kneeling with the elegance of old blood that recognizes nothing above it but sheer power and older blood. Lord Voldemort has both. Rodolphus keeps his head down, not daring to let his eyes drift upwards and take in the sight of his new Master.

“Why do you wish to join my ranks, Rodolphus?”

There was a buzz in his mind and he knew his thoughts were being watched long before he could voice them.

“I wish to purify wizarding society, to purge it from unworthy blood, to keep the filth from further sullying our lines. I wish to ascertain that wizards and witches rise to their natural position, above muggles. I wish for Hogwarts to be a place where only the worthy will be taught the ways of magic.” He gasped, he was out of air in sheer excitement.

He saw the right hand of his new Master rise to halt his speech. Then turn, palm up, and travel to the air just before his chin, and lift his fingers just enough. A command, a permission. Rodolphus looked up and basked on the sigh before him.

The Dark Lord was hallowed by the light, his features handsome, charming, his gaze piercing.

“Tell me, Rodolphus, what do you dislike the most about the current state of affairs between wizarding kind and muggles?”

“That I have to pretend, My Lord,” his voice in awe, “I’m forced to pretend to be someone else, that I am not above them, that I cannot smash them and reduce them to nothing.” He could have cried with the expression that came upon Lord Voldemort’s face. He had earned a smile.

“Well said, Rodolphus. You are worthy of my ranks, I can tell. You have one last task before you.”

With that, Lord Voldemort moved to the side, turning slightly and waving his hand to the door opposite to the one Rodolphus had used. The door opened to reveal a bruised man, magically bound and at the mercy of a Death Eater.

“A muggle,” the Dark Lord explained, disgust dripping from his voice, “and one that dared sully our lines. This man married a witch, a pureblood, and sired two children by her. Squibs, the two of them.” He waved his hand again and three bound figures came levitating into the room.

The man looked about fifty, but the witch was much younger, in her early thirties perhaps. The children looked about ten. They all looked equally terrified of the assembly. Rodolphus realized what would be asked of him, and started making plans. His Master chuckled beside him.

“An eager soldier,” only then did Rodolphus realize that the buzz had never left his mind, “you will have them, the muggle and the squibs. But the witch has much too valuable blood. You shall punish her with the sigh of the demise of her so called family, but do not harm her in any way.” His hand signalled him to rise, and then unleashed him on his victims.

The witch cried quietly, unable to move, unable to protect her kind. The children had been unbound, but did not try to escape, merely stood there, clinging to one another. A boy and a girl with hazel hair, shivering and sobbing. The muggle, the clear source of their hair colour and of their lacking in magical ability, had crumbled to the floor, now that the bounds didn’t hold him up anymore. His legs had been broken, he could see.

He waited while the Death Eater who stood watch over them walked to his place, in the alley of cloaks and masks, and then raised his wand. _Confringo_ he cried, and the children were maimed beyond recognition, spread all over the floor in crimson pieces. The witch wailed were she stood, looking at the blood that now covered her, and it sounded like her soul was being torn from her. The muggle had dragged his body forward, to touch his fingers to what was left of his children, as if to ascertain himself that it was real. Upon finding a small half of a hand, his screams of horror became an insult to the wizards in the room. Rodolphus put an end to it by setting the man on fire. The flames burst from all over him all at once, and bright did they burn. His screams were now of pain, but that was an ode to the ability of those above such filth.

The witch still screamed, and wailed, and finally became silent when one of the Death Eaters stunned her into unconsciousness.

Lord Voldemort walked to him, and he had to force his breathing to steady, his heart to pace itself, lest it burst.

“Well done, Rodolphus. You don’t have to pretend to be someone else,” and his voice was velvet and alluring, “not amongst my ranks.” Rodolphus kneeled again, out of devotion, in adoration of the wizard before him.

“Extend your left arm.” Rodolphus felt the cold when his skin was exposed by a precise severing charm, and the searing hot pain that shot up his arm straight to his head that followed. He could feel the Dark Mark pulsating on his forearm, and even though his eyes were incapable of focusing, he could make out the inky black that branded him as a Death Eater. The Unbreakable Vow that compromised him to the service of the Dark Lord. The sacred oath that saw his very soul committed to Darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts and Challenges  
> Astronomy Task 3: Write about a character entering into a lifelong service.  
> Creative Collection Challenge: Pairing - Lord Voldemort; Dialogue - You don’t have to pretend to be someone else  
> 365 Prompts Challenge 348.Word - Hallowed


End file.
